


Communication Failure

by dayishujia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:18:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5698129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayishujia/pseuds/dayishujia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: They're best friends, and they know everything about each other. So when Arthur needs a fake partner to show off to his father, Merlin expects to take on the role. When Arthur asks someone else to be his date instead, he can't help but be hurt. How could he know Arthur couldn't bare for it to only be pretend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Communication Failure

**Author's Note:**

> Horrible title is horrible. I tried to think of something clever and that's all that came of it.
> 
> written to fill a prompt on merlin-writers at livejournal.

“Uther’s birthday is coming up,” Morgana said in hushed tones, leaning across the table and into Merlin’s personal space. She stared, unblinkingly, into his eyes. 

The cafe they were in was owned and operated by Merlin and his family. It was brick-front with humble decorations inside, lined up in a series of other family owned-and-operated businesses and shops. 

Morgana often dropped by the cafe, claiming that they were the only ones in the area that made her coffee right but Merlin suspected it was more because she enjoyed coming in to bully him. 

“I know,” Merlin said slowly, leaning back a tad, just enough to give himself a little more space and not enough to offend his friend. It happened to very busy that day when Morgana popped in, bustling with people so there really wasn’t a need to be that close or speak so low. “And?”

“And last year, he gave Arthur a ultimatum of sorts,” she continued, returning to a more natural upright posture, her long fingers curling around her paper cup. 

“I vaguely remember hearing something about that.” He leaned back in his chair, hooking one knee over his other. He recalled the party last year, how Sir Uther’s face contorted ever so slightly when he saw his son enter the venue with his best mate rather than a girlfriend. Merlin bit back a grin and did his best to keep the amusement out of his voice when he asked, “What’s that got to do with me?”

Morgana gave Merlin a fond, exasperated look. “I just wanted to give you a heads up,” she explained slowly, as if talking to a child. “And give you time to find some presentable clothes.”

Merlin made a face and glanced down at himself. He didn’t think his usual outfits were that bad, although his work uniform left something to be desired. “What’s wrong with my clothes?” 

“Not the point,” Morgana dismissed him with a wave of her hand. 

“What is your point, Morgana?”

“My point is,” she stressed each word carefully, explaining, “is that you’re Arthur’s best friend. You’re most suitable to play the convincing Significant Other role for the party.”

Merlin choked on a poorly timed sip of coffee. “What?” 

“Be serious, Merlin,” Morgana sighed, handing him a paper napkin from the holder at the end of the table. Merlin took it, still sputtering, and held it over his mouth as he lightly hit his chest. Morgana watched him with a small, amused smile. “Who’d be better for the role than you?”

“A girl, perhaps?” Merlin stuttered, as if Morgana had finally lost her mind. He crumbled the napkin in his hand and tossed it on the table. “Your father isn’t exactly known for his LGBT positive outlook. And, last I recall, he doesn’t like me very much.”

“He doesn’t have to like you,” Morgana said. She was grinning wolfishly, as if the loophole she found was sheer genius. Though, if it was, Merlin was not able to see it. “He just said that Arthur had to have date.”

“Still,” Merlin frowned, “He would be better off bringing a girl. Gwen, perhaps. They’re pretty close.” 

“Don’t be silly,” Morgana rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and tucked an ankle behind the other. “Gwen’s a swell girl and all but they would not make a convincing couple. I’ve seen you two together and you do.”

Merlin flushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tugged the sleeves of his t-shirt over his hands, glancing around hoping that maybe his mum or uncle would come by and tell him his break was over and they needed him back behind the counter. 

“Sure you don’t,” Morgana chuckled, relaxing completely back in her chair now. “Just consider it and know that it is most likely coming.”

“Thanks for the warning, Morgana,” Merlin said, pushing himself to a standing position. If no one was going to come and tell him to end his break, he was just going to do it himself. Besides, Morgana’s words left him with an odd taste in his mouth and he needed time to mull it over. “I’ve got to go now.”

Morgana waved him off cheerfully. Whether or not she noticed his inner turmoil – turmoil she caused – Merlin wasn’t sure. “See you at the party, Merlin.”

Merlin waved clumsily and quickly walked away, ducking under the counter and resuming his place at the register and relieving his mother.  
.

After Merlin’s shift later that same day, Merlin got a panicked phone-call from Arthur.

He had already left the cafe and retreated to their upstairs apartment. He showered to get rid of the coffee bean and sugar smell and changed out his uniform for grey track pants and an old Doctor Who t-shirt. 

When Arthur called, Merlin was padding around the kitchen, putting something together to eat. 

“Merlin, what are you doing next Saturday?” Arthur’s voice asked over the telephone speaker without so much as a greeting. Merlin put him on speakerphone so that he could use both hands free to make his meal. “You’re coming to my father’s birthday party, right?”

“Of course, Arthur,” Merlin said smoothly with no hesitation. 

“Good,” he said, sounding slightly relieved. Merlin could hear the shuffling of papers over the line and vaguely wondered what Arthur was doing but deciding he shouldn’t ask. Arthur sounded stressed enough without Merlin’s prying. “I’ll come over on Thursday to make sure your clothes are appropriate.”

“I can get off around noon,” Merlin told him. He accidently dropped a pan a little too hard and he cringed at the loud sound it made. He recovered quickly, made sure nothing broke, and put the pan aside, gentler this time. “So come over after that.” 

“See you at one then,” Arthur said, “Just in case we have to do some shopping. I have to go, Merlin, there’s a lot to prepare.”

“Text you later,” Merlin said, hanging up. 

.

During the week, Merlin caught glimpses of his best friend at the coffee shop, but only for a few moments each time as he just ran in, got his usual coffee, greeted Merlin, and then left in as much of a hurry as he arrived in. 

Merlin expected that if Arthur really was going to ask him to be his fake date for his father’s celebration, like Morgana thought he would, he would have done it already. 

Perhaps, part of him reasoned, that phone call was supposed to be it. Maybe Arthur just assumed that Merlin would understand that and would go along with it, without being blatantly asked. 

And thus, Merlin just expected to be Arthur’s date so when Thursday rolled around, Merlin already had a nice outfit prepared (leftover, honestly, from Morgana’s party earlier in the year).

If Merlin was going to be honest with himself, he was excited to be Arthur’s fake date. Arthur was a nice guy, his best friend. He was handsome, smart, and appreciated Merlin’s weird sense of humor. Playing boyfriends with him would be fun, if nothing else. And who knows, maybe he could get something more out of the deal.

Merlin was an out and proud young man and Arthur was more than accepting of that when he came out to him in the parking lot of the local supermarket. He didn’t think his orientation would be a problem for Arthur and Arthur always seemed to rather enjoy stirring the waters with his father. 

So Merlin was operating under the assumption that he was going to be Arthur’s date and was more than thrilled by it. 

.

Arthur’s posh car was parked in the back of the building at one exactly on Thursday, just like he said he would be, and appeared at Merlin’s door a few minutes later.

“Finally,” Merlin overdramatically droned, grinning at Arthur from the living room sofa as the man toed off his shoes and shrugged off his rather unnecessary spring jacket. 

Arthur ignored him and plopped down in the space next to Merlin. He sunk in it, letting his head lull onto the backrest. Now that he was a closer, Merlin could see the exhaustion written on every line of his body. “Do you have any food?” Arthur asked, not bothering to even open his eyes.

Merlin shifted so that he was facing him, arm on the backrest, propping up his head. “Don’t we always?”

Arthur hummed noncommittally and didn’t move. Merlin grinned wider at him. “Didn’t you come here to make sure I had something to wear to your father’s thing?”

Arthur made another noise but still didn’t move. 

It took a few minutes, close to a half hour, before they moved from the living room into Merlin’s bedroom. They hadn’t bothered yet with finding or preparing anything to eat; Arthur wanted to judge Merlin’s attire first just in case they had to go shopping somewhere for, if that was going to be the case, they could grab something on the road. 

“Well, you’ve done it Merlin,” Arthur said, hands on his hips, looking at the suit Merlin had hung up on the back of his bedroom door. “You’ve finally managed to surprise me.”

“Despite what you might think,” Merlin started, shoving Arthur playfully. “I’m not entirely incompetent.”

“I suppose not entirely,” Arthur agreed. Merlin shoved him again and he laughed. “Well, I have the evening off so I don’t have anywhere to be. Want to order in?”

“If you were going to suggest that, why’d you ask if we had any food?” Merlin asked, laughing. He wasn’t really expecting an answer and was honestly more than alright with ordering in because, that way, he wouldn’t have to cook. 

Arthur just shrugged, grinning at him.

“Alright, you prat, but I get to pick the shop this time.” Merlin opened the door and padded into the kitchen, Arthur close on his tail.

“What?” Arthur exclaimed dramatically. He stood closely behind his friend as he pulled open the drawer that they kept all their take-out menus. “No, you picked last time!”

“I did not!” Merlin squeaked. 

“You so did!”

“Not!”

They continued to argue over who got to pick the restaurant for a few moments, then played hard-to-please when they decided to find a compromise. In the end, they chose something easy – pizza and wings – and ate in front of the television, watching the gayest collection of movies they could find in Merlin’s DVD library. 

When midnight finally rolled around after the fifth or sixth movie, Arthur dismissed himself with the promise to pick Merlin up the next day for the party. 

“Twelve sharp,” he said, index finger in Merlin’s face. He had on an overly stern expression, as if Merlin often forgot such things. “Don’t forget.”

“I got it Arthur,” Merlin rolled his eyes, “Just leave already would you?”

Arthur laughed. “See you later, Merlin.” 

Arthur paused in the doorway for a moment, staring at Merlin, his attention shifting between his eyes and his lips. A chill ran through Merlin – he half expected Arthur to kiss him – but instead, Arthur slapped his shoulder like he usually did and disappeared down the hall. 

.

The next morning, right after breakfast, Merlin started getting ready. After all, if he was going to be Arthur Pendragon’s date, he had to look the part. 

He showered, shaved, put on deodorant and perfume, slipped into his fancy trousers and pulled an undershirt over his head. He found and pulled on the nicest pair of matching socks he had and attempted to tame his unruly hair. 

By the time Arthur’s fancy car pulled into view outside Merlin’s bedroom window, Merlin had just managed to successfully tie his tie. Glancing in the mirror, he was rather proud at how well he cleaned up and knew Arthur certainly would be too. 

Arthur didn’t bother to knock before entering Merlin’s apartment. He slipped off his shoes and quickly moved from the entrance toward Merlin’s room. 

“Good afternoon, Hunith,” he said warmly, pressing a kiss to the lady’s cheek. She smiled fondly at the boy and patted shoulder. “Where is Merlin?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know.

“In his room, go on then.”

“Thanks.” Arthur padded further into the apartment and pushed his way into Merlin’s room, finding Merlin by his dresser mirror, primping his hair. “Stop fixing your hair, prima donna, its fine,” he said, “Let’s go.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Nice to see you too, Arthur,” he droned. He brushed aside one loose strand of hair and walked toward the door, where Arthur stood.

Arthur was leaning against the doorframe, looking more handsome than Merlin thought possible in his three-piece suit. Merlin did his best not to stare as he retrieved his fancy shoes from the closet. Once they were in hand, he tried to casually smile and pass Arthur, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach, but Arthur stopped him gently. 

Arthur reached out and brushed hair that must have fell when he bent over back out of his face. He looked as if he might say something – do something more, but he just took Merlin’s arm. “Let’s go.” 

Arthur only let go of Merlin’s arm when they’re standing in front of his car. Merlin expected Arthur to open the passenger door for him, like a proper date, but instead opens one of the backseat doors. He deemed it odd but brushed it off and climbed in anyway. 

He was halfway in the car when he noticed that there was someone else, a girl, in the front seat.

“Merlin, this is Mithian,” Arthur said simply, no obvious emotion in his voice, as he too climbed into the car. He didn’t look at Merlin to gauge his reaction, just settled himself and clicked the seatbelt into place. “She’s agreed to be my date for the evening.”

Merlin tried to ignore the unwanted sinking feeling in his gut and smiled when she turned in her seat to smile at him and shake his hand. 

Mithian was a beauty of a young woman, probably just the type Uther had in mind when placing the date requirement last year. She had dark brown hair that rivaled Morgana’s in beauty, tied up in an intricate, messy halo braid, complete with a short silver cap-sleeve cocktail dress.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Merlin,” she said in the sweetest voice. Merlin was finding it more and more difficult to dislike her but still found it relatively easy to be jealous of her. “Arthur’s told me a lot about you.”

“Has he?” Merlin glanced at Arthur as he shifted the car into drive. He was careful to avoid looking right at Merlin as he backed the car out of the parking space. 

“We are classmates at King’s College,” she continued, either unaware or ignoring the fact that Merlin hadn’t asked. “We take a lot of the same classes.”

Merlin hummed and nodded, trying to remain cheerful and interested and not let his disappointment and hurt show when all he wanted to do was to go home. 

.

The party was just as glamorous as Merlin expected it to be. Anyone who was anyone in the world of British politics was there and anyone attempting to snap a picture or to get a story was there too. Paparazzi lined the path from the drive to the doors, trying to get the most unique photos of all the guests. 

Arthur was the perfect gentleman and opened the door for his date, while Merlin opened his own. 

They pushed their way through the flashing lights of the paparazzi and then through the double doors of the event venue. The interior was nicely decorated, in tune to the standards of the rich political upper class.

Once safely inside and away from the prying, vulture-like eyes of the so-called journalists, the first thing they did was greet the guest-of-honor and his wife. 

Merlin frowned, feeling smaller than an insect. Usually, in these situations, Arthur was by his side as a sort of insurance that he belonged despite being way out of his element, but now, he stood arm-in-arm with Mithian, not paying any attention to Merlin at all. 

“Arthur, good to see you,” Uther greeted, taking his son’s hand in a superficially warm embrace. He then turned his attention then to Mithian and appeared honestly pleased. “Good to see you’ve taken my advice.”

“Yes, father,” Arthur droned. Merlin supposed Arthur’s lack of enthusiasm at introducing his date should make him feel a little better but it had no effect. With his free hand, Arthur patting Mithian’s, which were weaved over his arm. “Mithian and I are classmates and she was kind enough to escort me today.”

“I see,” Uther smiled. Arthur and Mithian nodded toward him in a mock bow, which Uther mirrored. He then turned to Merlin and his expression soured ever so slightly. “Merlin.”

“Mr. Pendragon,” Merlin greeted in the same tone Uther used on him. He inclined his head in a similar fashion as Arthur’s and Mithian’s. “Best wishes.”

“Of course,” Uther nodded and that was that; Arthur, Mithian and Merlin moved aside so the other guests could greet Uther and give him their well wishes.

Before they were off the hook, however, they had to greet Catrina, Uther’s wife and Arthur’s stepmother. She was a tall woman, standing about Uther’s height, with golden blonde hair that made some people forget that she was not Arthur’s biological mother. 

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Arthur,” Catrina said, smiling politely, looking like royalty in her long sleeveless dress and beaded draped cowl. Arthur nodded at her and returned the greeting. 

“Well, the worst is over now,” Mithian whispered softly, leaning close to Arthur. Merlin felt angry heat rise to his face and had to look away. “Now you can just enjoy the party.”

Merlin slipped away just as Arthur nodded. He meandered for a while, attempting to look the part of a sophisticated upper-class young adult but suspecting that he was falling short of succeeding. In his wanderings, he found Morgana. 

Morgana, who looked nothing short of a princess in her form-fitting illusion red lace dress with godets, approached Merlin with a wide gate and bright smile. “Merlin, hello,” she greeted kissing him on each cheek, careful not to leave any red lipstick marks. 

“Hi,” Merlin greeted stupidly, “um, Arthur didn’t ask me.”

Morgana cocked her head and raised an elegant eyebrow. “Sorry?”

“Arthur,” Merlin croaked, trying to not let the hurt he felt seep into his words but was failing, judging how Morgana’s face fell as he continued to explain. “You were wrong. He didn’t ask me. He’s here with a girl he met in college.”

“Oh... oh, Merlin,” she murmured, reaching out to hold his shoulders in a mock hug. “I’m so, so sorry. I thought for sure...”

“But you were wrong,” Merlin interrupted her, not wanting to hear the rest of what she was going to say. It wasn’t going to help anyway; they were just words and not from the person Merlin wanted to hear them from. “He didn’t ask me. I guess we’re not as close as you thought. Or as I thought for that matter.”

Morgana seemed to want to say something more but Merlin quickly said goodbye before she could even utter another word and left to continue his search for the bar. He needed a drink.

When he found it, Merlin made himself at home, more than a little grateful that Morgana hadn’t followed. He left so out of his element here. If he wasn’t here with Arthur, he simply didn’t belong. 

Merlin passed his time drinking and making small talk with whoever attempted converse with him. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when someone settled in the chair next to him at the table. 

“Merlin,” the voice droned, familiar. “Here you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Merlin didn’t look up. He didn’t need to. He knew it was Arthur and he didn’t want to face him just yet. “You should be seeing to your date.” 

Arthur sighed and gently laid his hand on Merlin’s arm. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” Merlin asked, jerking away from Arthur’s touch. He still didn’t bother look up at him. 

“Merlin...” Arthur sounded surprised, shocked by Merlin’s tone and actions. Of course they’ve fought through the years, but he doubted he ever heard Merlin sound like that or pull away from him like he did. 

“No, you know what?” Merlin stood and brushed imaginary dirt off himself, patting his pockets to make sure he was leaving with everything he came with. “I should get home. I have to work tomorrow.” 

“No, Merlin,” Arthur stood up as well. He sidestepped and blocked Merlin from walking away. “Wait a moment.” 

Merlin didn’t bother to look at him and changed his course, brushing past Arthur and trying not to let himself wonder what it would have been like to have been the date instead of just somebody Arthur drug along. “I’ll see you later, Arthur.”

“Merlin...” Arthur reached out and, in a last-ditch effort to stop him from leaving, grabbed Merlin’s upper arm, gripping it tight.

Merlin turned but didn’t raise his eyes to meet Arthur’s. He jerked his arm roughly out of Arthur’s grasp. “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Arthur. And I don’t want to make a scene.”

“Did I do something wrong? Talk to me, Merlin!” The volume of Arthur’s voice rose a little more than he was probably expected but didn’t let any surprise he might have felt show on his face. 

Merlin paused and took a deep breath. He slowly turned around and looked Arthur in the eyes for the first time that afternoon since Arthur picked him up at his home. “Just...” he started breathily, “leave me alone, Arthur.” 

.

Whether or not Arthur made an appearance at Merlin’s family’s cafe the next day, Merlin wouldn’t know. He claimed illness and his mother was more than sympathetic. She might not have known what, exactly was wrong, but she knew something was amiss. So he was allowed to stay at home, in his sleeping clothes, watch his favorite movies on marathon, and wallow in his misery.

The day after that, Merlin avoided the front room by working stock, taking inventory and cleaning up the back of the cafe. 

His avoidance plan could only last so long. The following day was Merlin’s day off and he woke to the sound of rapid, loud banging on his apartment door.

He padded through the apartment, wondering if the pounding was the door or if it had moved to his head. He threw the door open, ready to give the person on the other side a good hollering at but all words died on his lips when he saw the other person was Arthur. 

Arthur never knocked.

Before Merlin could shut the door on him, Arthur pushed his way into the apartment. Merlin made a face but just shut the door behind him. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he accused. Arthur whirled on his heel and stared down Merlin, daring him to deny it. 

Merlin rubbed his palms on his sleeping pants. He didn’t meet Arthur’s eyes. “Have not.”

Arthur cursed, running his hands through his hair, making it stand on end. “I’m not stupid, Merlin.”

It was quiet after that and Merlin just stood there awkwardly, not sure of what he should say or do next. Glancing up, he saw Arthur in grey sweatpants and a sweatshirt. If nothing else, that told Merlin loud and clear that this was distressing Arthur, and it made him feel slightly better about things. Arthur was feeling as crummy as he did and that was a relief. 

Arthur heaved a sigh. He held his hands out at his sides, palm up. “Just tell me what’s going on, would you?”

“Its nothing.” Merlin shrugged, dragging his gaze back down to his feet.

“Nothing?” Arthur repeated incredulously, his volume a little too loud for Merlin’s comfort. “You left in the middle of my father’s celebration and proceeded to not talk to me in two days!”

Merlin shrugged again. He wasn’t sure what else to do. He felt bad but the hurt hadn’t ebbed yet and he wasn’t ready to talk about it. At least, not with Arthur. 

“Come on,” Arthur sighed, sounding defeated. He slowly approached Merlin, stopping dead in his tracks when Merlin backed away. “You’ve got to give me something to go on here.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it, Arthur,” he said instead. He wrapped his arms around himself, and glanced up at Arthur’s face. He looked utterly miserable, downright pathetic, and Merlin wished he was ready to talk about it with him but he just didn’t trust himself not to disclose his real feelings about Arthur – real feelings he just discovered himself. “Its just not that important.”

Merlin turned and walked into the kitchen to turn on the kettle for tea. He needed something to do with his hands other than hold his own elbows.

Arthur must have followed him because Merlin could hear his footfalls on the tile.

“What do you mean ‘not important’?” Arthur half-shouted, spitting Merlin’s choice of words back at him. It hurt to hear them said back to him, even though it wasn’t the same – Arthur wasn’t using them against him like he used them against Arthur. “Of course its important, you idiot!”

“Why? Why is it important?” Merlin asked, sighing. He just wanted this conversation to be over. He took the kettle over the sink and started to fill it with water. “Why can’t you just go to Mithian and leave me alone, huh?”

Arthur blinked at him, gaping at him slack-jawed. “What does Mithian have to do with anything?”

“Nothing,” Merlin snapped, just as the lid to the kettle snapped shut. He turned off the tap and placed it back on the heating plate. He pressed the on button and turned around. “Forget I said anything.”

“Merlin...” Arthur tried to approach him again, taking a few steps slowly. His arms were out at his sides once again, palms up like before, to try and show he wasn’t trying to corner him.

“No,” Merlin snapped. Despite Arthur’s attempts, he still felt cornered. He stepped back as far as he could until the edges of the counter dug into his back.

Arthur sighed and let his hands hang by his sides. He took a step back, looking more like a kicked puppy than anything else. “Well, I guess that’s that then.”

Merlin tugged his fringe out of his face. “I guess so.”

“I’ll see myself out then.” Arthur took a few more steps backwards, watching Merlin carefully as he did so but Merlin’s eyes never met his. Arthur swallowed hard and shrugged his shoulders in an attempt of nonchalance. “See you around, Merlin.”

Merlin made a noncommittal sound but didn’t move to follow Arthur or to stop him. There was silence for a few moments until he heard the telltale sound of the door slamming shut. 

.

“I feel like this is all my fault,” Morgana said, looking across the table at Merlin.

A couple days have already passed since his confrontation with Arthur and he wasn’t feeling any better than he had that day. He did go back to his regular routine, not wanting to put too much strain on his mother and uncle.

Morgana came into Merlin’s family’s cafe like usual, as per her routine, ordered her usual and asked Merlin to join her. Merlin gathered her drink, prepared one for himself and they found an out-of-the-way table to enjoy it with his friend.

Morgana tucked a strand of silky hair behind her ear and looked Merlin straight in the eye and continued, “If I hadn’t meddled, you guys wouldn’t be fighting.”

Merlin shrugged and took a tentative sip of his coffee. “We’re not exactly fighting.”

“No,” she agreed, “you’re not talking at all, which is worse.”

Merlin was silent and sipped at his latte. He was grateful that the cafe was rather busy at the moment; it allowed him to be able to focus on something else and not on Morgana’s guilt-ridden expression.

Morgana eventually looked away. She ran her long fingers through her hair, messing it up and tossing it over one shoulder. The move reminded Merlin of her brother and his heart gave a painful lurch. “I realize now I shouldn’t have said anything that day. I thought Arthur was braver than that.”

Merlin shrugged again, not sure of what else he could do. “He asked who he wanted to ask. It can’t be helped.”

“Except,” she said sharply. She turned back to face Merlin face on and leaned across the table, jabbing a long finger onto the tabletop for emphasis. “It should have been you.”

Merlin stared at her for a moment, taking in her stern, stubborn expression, and laughed humorlessly. “Morgana, you’re rubbish as a match-maker, you know that?”

Morgana ignored his comment with a flippant wave of her hand. “Arthur’s been so annoying lately. You don’t know what this is doing to him.”

After gaping like a fish for a couple moments, Merlin eventually admitted, “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Then I’ll say more,” Morgana continued almost immediately, “He’s been insufferable. Irritable. Flaky. Finicky. Twitchy. His appetite is gone. He’s restless.”

“Why are you telling me this, Morgana?” Merlin put his forehead in the hand he had resting on the table. 

“Because,” she said, leaning a little closer as if trying to peer into Merlin’s eyes. “Even if he doesn’t want more from you, you’re still his best friend and what you’re doing to him is hurting him. He’s miserable without you.”

Merlin’s hand came down to scrub across his face. “So you want me to talk to him.”

“You’re an adult, Merlin, I can’t tell you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

.

A few days later found Merlin sitting on the stone steps of one of the grand buildings at King’s College. He knew Arthur was attending class inside and he also knew that going there like he did, with what he wanted to say, classified more as an ambush than anything else but Merlin wasn’t sure how else to do it. He very well couldn’t turn up on Arthur’s doorstep and moan about how he chose some girl over him. He would just get a door in his face for his efforts. At least this way, Arthur couldn’t slam a door on him. 

He wasn’t sure how long he waited, fiddling with his cell phone to pass the time. As the minutes ticked by, he got more and more anxious until he considered cutting his losses and going home. 

Merlin was just about to stand up and go home when a familiar voice cut through the general hum and chatter of the university. “Merlin?”

Merlin shot to his feet and whirled around to see Arthur standing a few paces away with Mithian at his side. Now he knew this had been a bad idea.

Arthur turned to Mithian and said, in a low voice, “I’ll catch up with you later.” She nodded, pressed a hand to Arthur’s arm, turned to wave at Merlin, then trotted down the steps. 

Once she was out of sight, Arthur slowly approached Merlin like he was approaching a dangerous animal. “What are you doing here?”

Merlin offered a smile but knew it probably looked more like a grimace. That was how he felt, after all. “Morgana told me you were being insufferable,” he said by way of reason, trying for a lighthearted joke. “So I thought we should talk.”

“Because of my sister?” he asked incredulously. He released a harsh breath and a rough chuckle. “You know what, Merlin? I have an important exam coming up and I don’t have time for this.”

Arthur attempted to walk past him, but Merlin grabbed his arm, just like Arthur had before. “No, wait, it wasn’t just Morgana.”

Arthur glanced back at him but didn’t attempt to pull his arm free. Merlin thought that might be a minor victory.

“I... you know... I’ve missed you.” Merlin half-heartedly shrugged. It wasn’t what he wanted to say but that was what came out so he went with it. It wasn’t like it was a false statement anyway.

Arthur let out a breath. He ducked his head and turned away from him. “What do you want, Merlin?”

“I want...” Merlin licked his lips as his mind fished for the right words. He let go of Arthur’s arm and rubbed the back of his neck instead. Arthur’s arm fell and hung limply at his side. “I want... I guess... I want to know why not me.”

“Why not you what, Merlin?” Arthur asked, sounding more than a little annoyed. He turned a little to be able to look at Merlin without facing him completely. “I need more to go on than some ambiguous phrase.”

Merlin swallowed hard. It was now or never he supposed and he came too far to back out now. Even if he tried, he doubted Arthur would let him. “I mean, why didn’t you ask me?” he asked, trying to keep as much of the hurt from his voice. “To be your fake date for your father’s party.”

“Is... is that what this is about?” Arthur asked as if he didn’t believe it. His voice rose a little and he seemed to think that there was a punch-line coming. He spun to look at Merlin now, staring hard at his face as if looking for a trace of a joke. 

Fear struck Merlin now. Before, he had assumed that the thing with Mithian was fake, a move made just to appease his father, but now.... Maybe he had been wrong, Arthur was actually straight-as-a-board and Mithian meant more to Arthur than that.

Merlin shrugged and dropped his gaze, no longer able to meet Arthur’s eyes. 

“You really are an idiot,” Arthur groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. He looked away again, out into the university grounds, watching other students meander to and from class.

Merlin bristled and grimaced. He brought his arms up to his chest and dug his heel into the stone ground. “Thanks.”

Arthur ignored him and said, “Look, I brought Mithian because... I asked her because...”

“I get it,” Merlin hummed, interrupting Arthur, punctuating it with a self-deprecating shrug. “She’s beautiful.”

“You...!” Arthur spit like a curse. He whirled on his heel to stare hard at Merlin again. “You utter buffoon!” Arthur exclaimed when nothing else came out and Merlin turned to snap a retort when Arthur took hold of his shoulders and pressed their mouths together. 

It was a horribly messy, uncoordinated kiss, aborted too soon when Merlin pushed him away. 

“What,” Merlin panted, out of breath from both the kiss itself and the shock of it. He tried to flinch out of Arthur’s grasp but Arthur just held on tighter. “What was that about?”

“I didn’t ask you to be my fake date to father’s party because...” Arthur swallowed hard. His eyebrows were knitted tight and his grip on Merlin’s shoulder’s tightened. “Because I didn’t want it to be fake.”

Merlin blinked stupidly. He tried to take a step backwards but Arthur’s grasp on his shoulders didn’t let him. “What?”

“I wouldn’t have been able to handle it, if you said yes and we pretended for the night. If that was all it was, pretend. That’s why I brought Mithian. I can pretend with her and we can both be okay with the fact that it would be over within a couple hours. If it was you....”

“Arthur,” Merlin said sternly. His face fell to mirror Arthur’s and he brought his arms back up to cross over his chest in an attempt to look more in control than he felt. He wasn’t even sure when he dropped his arms in the first place. “This isn’t the sort of thing you should kid about.”

“Who’s kidding?” Arthur exclaimed, letting go of Merlin with a little shove. Arthur still looked upset but now a little hurt. “Why would I joke about something like this? Do you think that little of me?”

“N-no!” Merlin sputtered, “Of course not, its just...” 

Arthur waited for a moment for Merlin to think of what he wanted to say before deciding for him. Cupping his cheek with one hand, Arthur leaned in for another kiss, moving slow just in case Merlin wanted to pull away. But Merlin didn’t pull away and their lips brushed, tentative at first then firmer when the thrill spurred Arthur on.

Arthur, albeit reluctantly, broke the kiss and put some separation between them. Merlin’s hands had, sometime during the kiss, found their way to hold Arthur’s sides.

“Do you understand now,” Arthur asked. Any anger he might have been feeling faded and he just looked an odd combination of miserable and hopeful. 

Merlin huffed, smiling a little smile as Arthur’s thumb caressed his cheek. “I understand.”

“Good,” Arthur hummed, smiling at him and punctuating his words with a kiss, “good.”

Merlin practically purred. He reached up and held Arthur’s hands against his face, looking at him coyly. “So are you going to ask me now or?”

Arthur grinned but pretended to shrug stupidly. Merlin was glad to see that the weirdness between them was gone and Arthur was able to go back to being his weird, brattish self with him again. He really missed that, though he would never admit that to Arthur. “I kinda thought the kiss was enough.”

“Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin playfully slapped Arthur’s shoulder. The move knocked Arthur’s hands from Merlin’s face but he quickly replaced them along Merlin’s waist. Merlin laughed when Arthur laughed and inched a little closer to him, saying, “I want the works! Ask me out, ask me to be official, take me on a date, give me flowers.”

Arthur laughed again, curling his arms around Merlin’s waist as the man drew closer. 

“Well, I don’t have any flowers right now and that exam will take up most of my time for the rest of the week so no dates for a little while but,” Arthur dropped to one knee, hands following to rest on Merlin’s hips. “Merlin Emrys, will you be my boyfriend?”

Merlin laughed at the display, the tips of his ears turning pink. Others around them were starting to stare but Merlin didn’t pay them no mind, nor did Arthur.

Lightly touching Arthur’s face, Merlin said, “I’d love to.”


End file.
